Monthly Archives: February 2014

8 Best Horror Movies Ever

I love scary movies even when they’re terrible, so this list is neither definitive nor particularly respectable. My only measure of authority on the subject is that I can quote Friday the 13th, Part VI from memory. (“Hit the noise and the cherries!”)

Since I have a high-needs baby at home, I’ve been missing my slashers lately. I know that soon there will come a day when he takes a two-hour nap on his own, or goes to bed at a regular baby time and stays asleep. Until then, all I have are my memories and this list. Continue reading

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7 People Who Deserve An Apology From Katy Perry

This post is less than timely, because I’ve been in an abusive relationship with Katy Perry’s “Roar” since last August. But this song is still EVERYWHERE on the radio, and it’s such a vicious earworm that I can’t stop hating myself for listening to it on purpose sometimes. So I spend a lot of commute time meditating on this particular topic, and it’s finally time to exorcise this thing from my system (if such a thing is possible).

The song is catchy enough, in kind of a bouncy/inoffensive way, but the lyrics. OMG you guys the lyrics. It’s like she took a bunch of cliches and famous quotes and just whizzed them up in a blender and made Dumb Lyrics Soup.

In no particular order, here are the people and artists who have been besmirched by their (presumably involuntary) association with “Roar.”

1)  Former U.S. Senate Chaplain Peter Marshall, whom I believe is the originator of the phrase, “Unless we stand for something, we shall fall for anything.” Katy’s version is, “I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything” — which I feel must still be true, or why else would she be with alpha-douche John Mayer? Continue reading

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3 Ways I’m Screwing Up My Son

I’ve only been a parent for a little over eight months. I’m not trained in psychology or neurology (or any other field where I’d have a greater than 50/50 chance of ever hoping to pay off my student loans), but that seems like it’s probably more than enough time to permanently damage a child’s chances of having a happy, healthy, successful life.

Before I start self-flagellating, I should acknowledge that there are a lot worse parents than me –for example, nearly everyone who has ever starred on any iteration of Teen Mom, especially most of the dads. I give you Ryan, speaking to his son on the occasion of his first birthday: “Hey, Bentley. I ain’t buyin’ your fuckin’ cake mix, buddy.” First of all, Bentley. Second, pretty sure that line is a direct outtake from American Psycho 3: Tennessee Drift. BUY YOUR SON A TWO-DOLLAR PILLSBURY CAKE MIX, YOU MONSTER.

But if I’m actually going to raise the bar high enough to make this limbo tournament competitive, there are also a lot of way better parents out there than me. This is based on nothing more than a gut feeling, but Sandra Bullock. How would she not be an amazing mom? I have seen no concrete evidence to the contrary, so there you go. Sandra Bullock: America’s Sweetheart, And Also Probably Mom of the Year. Thanks for making the rest of us look like assholes, Sandy! (This is the playful nickname used by Sandy’s close personal friends, such as George Clooney and me.)

Finally, before we get to the list, I want to point out that these are just three MAJOR ways I’m screwing up my son. I won’t even discuss the fact that I’m terminally messy, or helplessly disorganized, or relatively unmotivated. And I’ll just assume it’s a given that I’m setting a terrible example with regards to fitness and nutrition. Oh, and that I’ve probably done the kid a major disservice by passing on my genetics at all, what with my dozens of allergies (some potentially fatal!), crippling anxiety, and tendency to break out in mysterious rashes.

And no, my tendency to gloss over huge life issues did not make the list. Continue reading

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5 Signs I May Be Suffering From A Mental Disorder

Some people say, “I’m soooo OCD,” and they say it while they’re giggling and insisting that you remove your shoes before you walk on their carpet. Unless these people are simultaneously popping Anafranil and flipping a light switch on and off exactly 13 times, they might not actually be OCD.

(I hate taking my shoes off in other people’s houses. What if I didn’t know you were one of those people, and I’m not wearing my “company”-grade socks? Or what if I’m wearing heels with no tights or anything, and now I’m just padding around your house barefoot, like a goddamn street urchin? Most importantly, why did you buy carpeting that you never wanted anyone to walk on? I mean, Pergo is a thing for a reason.)

I don’t want to join the ranks of the irritatingly tidy who trivialize obsessive-compulsive disorder, but YOU GUYS, I THINK I MIGHT HAVE OCD FOR REAL. Let’s review the evidence.

ONE. I think the Virgin Mary is magical.

I have about five Mary-themed air fresheners in my car, because once I got in a bad car accident but didn’t die, and no one can prove to me that it wasn’t because of the rose-scented Virgin of Guadalupe hanging from my rearview mirror. Related: I carry a rosary for good luck. And also an evil eye amulet… and a key chain in the shape of a gas pump, which matters only because my dad gave it to me. So far, so normal — AM I RIGHT?

TWO. I’m a selective eater.

In the very technical sense of the word, because I could eat most of you under the table, quantity-wise. But anything with an icky texture — which is the majority of all foodstuffs, FYI — is verboten. Continue reading

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